


Invitation

by Atsugaruru



Category: Hiveswap
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Non-Consensual, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 03:29:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17236541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atsugaruru/pseuds/Atsugaruru
Summary: Zebruh invites Chixie over to his hive for a party. Recognizing it to be a good business opportunity, she accepts.





	Invitation

 

Oh, er, I’m sorry. Did I come early?”

“A little. You’re a bit eager to see me aren’t you?”

She looks over Zebruh’s shoulder to the cavernous mansion. She can hear music playing in the background, spots movement inside, and hopes that at least some other guests had arrived. She knew a few of her chittr mutuals were invited and they’d all agreed it was worth going to. There’d be fans, influencerss, producers, and other musicians they could collab with, Zebruh had said.

Chixie wasn’t particularly close with anyone that had said they were attending, but now she was starting to regret coming alone. She’d even been sure to arrive a little past the time Zebruh had told her to come. Had he invited her earlier than the others?

Anxiety bubbles in her throat, gnaws at Chixie’s belly, and a primal part of her brain urges her not to go into the hive. But she pushes it down. She’s done far more dangerous things to advance her career. She knew more than a few decently famous trolls on chittr and grubtube that had confirmed they were going. She would be fine! The bronzeblood at least refuses to take Zebruh’s hand as he welcomes her into his hive.

She’s so distracted by how expensive and nice everything is, that it isn’t until a few moments later that Chixie realizes these aren’t guests. These are servants. She blinks in disbelief, but the other trolls in the hive are all lowbloods busy setting up. They’re filthy, emaciated, and tired looking things.

She locks eyes with another bronzeblood. It makes her bloodpusher drop. She knew Zebruh followed the hemocaste, but with all his talk, she didn’t actually take him for the kind of highblood to keep lowblood servants. Her panic levels start to rise again.

“It’ll be a bit before the others arrive. My friends here are helping set up the ballroom.” As he speaks, he wraps his arm around Chixie’s shoulder. “Why don’t we relax a bit in my respiteblock? We could watch some television. You could show me the new songs you’ve been working on.”

She feels nothing but visceral disgust. Going into this dude’s room, alone, was the last thing she wanted to do.

“Actually, I’m kind of hungry. Let’s have a snack instead.” She flashes him a weak smile and hopes he takes the message.

“Of course! We’ll just eat in my respiteblock.” Zebruh snaps his finger and looks at the nearest servant, a rustblood that couldn’t have been older than six sweeps. “Fix us up something nice.”

 

* * *

 

Laying on some loungeplanks, Chixie pulls out some lyrics she’d been experimenting with on her phone. She tries to share them with Zebruh and ask for feedback, but of course he shows no interest in what she’s actually saying. She doesn’t miss the way his eyes fleet to her shoulders, down to her thighs, and up to her chest.

“I’ve been thinking about buying a club. Filling the entire lineup with lowbloods and other artists that agree with our revolutionary agenda. That’s actually why I invited everyone here tonight, to discuss the business venture. Don’t you think that’d be nice?” He locks eyes with Chixie, and gives her that sick smile that makes her stomach roil. One of his hands finds itself on an exposed bit of her thigh. Chixie flinches, unsure how to react, but forces herself to smile for him.

“Sounds great!” She says through gritted teeth. “I bet the others would appreciate it.”

“I could even make you the headline.” His hand slips up her thigh while he leans in closer. Chixie can feel his breath on her neck and it makes her blood run cold. “I wouldn’t ask for much in return.”

The tips of his claws start pressing into her skin. She looks over at the door to his respiteblock but it’s closed. Locked, she remembers. Even if the other lowbloods were around, they couldn’t do anything.

She knew people that had to pail others to get to where they were. She’d never thought it’d happen to her, but she knew what’d happened if she refused. Even if she managed to get him off of her, her career wouldn’t survive a seething, bad review from Zebruh. She’d fought through hell and back to get to where she was, shed so many tears, and poured too much work to let it all go to shit. So Chixie doesn’t say anything when Zebruh slips his hand up her dress. It makes her heart pound and her mouth dry but she can’t find herself to say no.

He places a cold, wet kiss on an exposed spanse of her neck.

She wants to scream, she wants to scream at Zebruh and push him away. But Chixie finds herself frozen in fear and shock. Maybe this is just a bad daymare. That’s what she tells herself as she squeezes her eyes shut and feels the highblood’s fingers tracing up her slit.

“You’re so cute, babe. I love your downward horns and your little songs. I know there’s something real special between us. We’d be really subverting highblood-lowblood relationships by being equal business partners, yeah?”

Chixie has never felt more dry in her entire life, but Zebruh doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he just doesn’t care. His palm rubs insistently at her nook through her underwear. The friction is anything but welcoming, and it makes Chixie feel more and more panicked.

It doesn’t feel real. Zebruh slips off her panties and hikes her dress up. He squeezes her rhumblespheres, pinching her nipples too hard while he leans over Chixie and pants into her ear. He tell her she’s a little dirtblood whore.

A hand releases her breast, but the relief is short lived when Zebruh pulls down his pants and presses their hips together. She recoils at the contact from his bulge. It’s cold, it’s wet, and Chixie thinks she might just throw up. She’s never felt more disgusted by a bulge in her entire life. It thrashes against her, leaks onto her waist, staining it blue.

Without so much as a warning, Zebruh slips his bulge in. She practically yells. It feels like ice being pushed up her nook. The sensation has her bulge furl out and slide across her abdomen.

Zebruh’s panting into her neck, arching his back and slamming his hips painfully against Chixie’s. She squeezes her eyes shut and tries to remember to breathe. _Forces_ herslef to breathe through her mouth. Zebruh seems to take her panting as a sign of pleasure and he rolls his hips, whispers into her ear, “You like that, huh? My thick bulge in your tight little lowblood nook.” He grabs at her bulge and she spasms. His hand is rough, uncaring and Chixie’s bulge frantically tries to slip out of his grasp.

Zebruh’s thrusts and coiling only become more and more erratic. His claws dig into her waist and spill her bronze blood. Chixie feels one last sharp bite against her neck before Zebruh starts to comes into her. It doesn’t fill her gene bladder properly, and instead pours out of her nook and drips onto her legs. She registers the distant sound of genetic material splattering onto the floor.

He stays there, panting against her, shuddering. After a few moments his bulge stills and she finally, finally feels him slip out of her. She practically sobs in relief. There’s a dull throbbing in her nook. Her legs feel numb. Chixie makes the mistake of looking down and sees her thighs and Zebruh’s waist painted with blue and bronze slurry.

“Naughty girl. The other guests should be here soon. Want to head for a quick shower?” He gestures to the abulationblock connected to his room. “I could even let you borrow some nice clothes if you want to change. You have to look presentable for the producers. We can’t let them buy into the stereotype that all lowbloods are filthy vagrants.”

For the first time that night, anger burns in Chixie’s blood. “You go ahead and get in first,” She manages to spit out with her last bit of sanity. “I’ll head in there in a second, okay?”

Zebruh nods and gives her a wink, before striding into the abulationblock. She tries to ground herself and gather her thoughts. Chixie waits for the sound of a running shower, and forces herself up. Her legs are shaking and the slurry starting to dry on her legs brings a fresh wave of nausea.

The bronzeblood's mind is still racing. She can't decide if she should make a run for it or join Zebruh. He’s humming to himself in the shower, and it reminds her why she came here. Why she didn't say no. If Chixie were to leave now, it would have been for naught.

 

She tries to hold back her tears as she hobbles towards the abulationblock.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year, everypony


End file.
